Not Just An Uberdyke From Romania
by Star2717
Summary: A retelling of Bring It On. How does Missy view the world? MissyJan, eventually.


A/N:  This will be Missy/Jan eventually.  It's the whole movie, as told through Missy's POV.  Reviews will be rewarded with virtual chocolate bars.

"And good morning!  It's six o' clock in I'm DJ the morning, and Adam, spinning some great tunes for you to wake up and start your day with.  The sun is already shining, and look for highs in the mid seventies today.  So let's start out my shift with something from a few years back that still gets me out of bed in the morning.  Here's "Burn Baby Burn" by Ash, on 88.3, your home for rock."

            I blinked a few times before rolling over to stare at the bright red numbers on my alarm clock.  I had just been rudely awakened from a beautiful dream involving myself, a deserted beachfront, and Gavin Rossdale.  Dammit, dammit, dammit.  I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom that my brother Cliff and I share.  I peeked into his bedroom.  He was most definitely still in heavy slumber.  The bastard probably wouldn't wake up until fifteen minutes before school started.  Sometimes I wish I were a boy, if only for the lack of caring that they seem to have about their appearance.  

            I shut the bathroom door behind me, and began the process of getting ready for my first day at a brand new high school.  Well, technically, all of the other students at Rancho Carne High School would be starting on their second day of classes.  But my absent-minded mother, had, as usual, mixed up the dates of our first day of school, and of her big presentation.  Hence, Cliff and I were accidentally starting a day late.

            As I brushed my teeth, I stared in the mirror at my reflection.  I had put my hair in twists last night after I washed it, and it had more or less survived intact.  Now all that needed planning was an outfit.

            I headed back to my room.  Opening my closet, I stared at the selection that spread itself before me.  I could make a statement with what I wore.  Such as "I don't care."  Or perhaps "Screw you."  My parents call me Sunshine for a reason.

            After putting on my pants and t-shirt, I completed my look with some requisite black eye liner.  I headed downstairs, hoping to find some caffeine before I had to drive to school.  Downstairs I encountered my brother wearing his lucky Clash t-shirt, and eating the last of the Coco Puffs.

            "Bastard," I muttered, selecting the box of Cheerios as a much more boring alternative.

            Cliff shrugged.  "Miss, maybe you should wake up a little earlier."  I glared at him as I opened a can of Diet Coke.  I've never really been the coffee type.  

            "You need a ride, or will that bucket of junk hold together another day?" I asked through a mouthful of Cheerios.

            Cliff rolled his eyes.  "One, I would rather walk than be seen in your Beetle.  And two, my car runs very well.  I just chose to spend the money that Dad gave me on guitar equipment as opposed to some perky little machine that is the complete antithesis of my personality."

            "Just because I don't like happy people doesn't mean I can't drive a happy car.  Besides, it looks good on me."  I flung a Cheerio at him, which he easily ducked.  "Did Mom leave a note, or was that too much to ask of her?"

            Cliff picked up a piece of paper on the counter that I hadn't noticed.  "Missy and Cliff: Had to go to an emergency meeting in Topeka.  Looks like we're closing the Harrison deal!  Should be back sometime tomorrow.  Love, Mom."  Cliff shrugged.  "At least she left money.  Dad completely forgot to when he went to Honolulu."

            I frowned.  "Honolulu?  I thought it was Birmingham."

            Cliff shook his head.  "You're mixing up his weeks.  Not that I care.  I'm leaving, I've gotta get gas before school.  Now, Miss, don't knife anyone on the first day."

            "Real funny, asshole," I yelled at his departing form.  As I cleaned up the remains of my breakfast, I tried not to think about the day ahead of me.  I had left every single one of my friends back at Mission Hills in L.A.  I was going into my new school a whole day late, so if I wouldn't have been an outsider before, I sure as hell was going to be one now.  I hate change.

            Sighing, I grabbed my car keys and a notebook, and headed off to meet my certain doom at Rancho Carne High.

****************************

            After parking my car, I walked as slowly as possible towards the main building, trying to keep my head down.  I observed the kids around me, all of whom seemed to be yelling, laughing, and squealing.  In other words, they all had their own friends with no need for any new ones.  All by the second day of school.  Great.  Just great.  Just please let them have a gymnastics team, I thought, rounding a corner that I was hoping would lead to some stairs.

            WHAM.  I ran smack into someone's chest, nearly getting knocked over in the process.  I managed to keep my balance and therefore avoided falling on my ass, but, unfortunately, dropped my notebook and car keys in the process.  Hoping that I hadn't run into some sort of gang member, I crouched down to retrieve my stuff.

            "Here, let me grab that for you," said a voice, which I presumed belonged to the chest that my face had just encountered.  I glanced up, and found myself staring into a pair of gorgeous eyes.  Way to go, Missy, I thought.  Run into the hottest boy in school within your first fifteen minutes.  He grabbed my car keys (I had already retrieved my notebook) and we both stood up.  I stared up at him, desperately trying to think of something to say other than "You are one fine piece of ass."  He appeared to be about a foot taller than me, sporting those eyes that I already mentioned, dark, spiky hair, and a slightly cocky smile.  He was wearing jeans and a button up shirt, and looked like he lifted half-ton weights in his spare time.  

            "Sorry about that," he said, depositing my keys into my hand.  I blinked a few times, trying to think of an appropriate response.  Come on, Missy, I thought.  Introduce yourself.  Meeting a hot boy is never a bad thing.

            "Yeah, well, maybe you should watch where you're going," I muttered.  I ducked around him and continued toward the staircase.  Only after I had finally found my homeroom and sat down did I realize how much of an idiot I was.  This guy was nice enough to help me retrieve my stuff and apologize, and how do I react?  In my typical manner, of course.  I sighed as the P.A. system crackled to life.  Folding my arms up to my chest, I listened to the announcements and hoped that the rest of my day would go better.  

*****************************

            I stared up at the walls of the guidance counselor's office, waiting not-so-patiently for her to finish a phone call.  My stomach growled, reminding me that this was a complete and utter waste of my lunch period.  To try and distract myself, I stared at the cool new tattoo that I had given myself during fourth period history class.  Boredom brings out my artistic side.

            "So, Sissy, what is it that I can do for you today?"  I looked up to see that Mrs. Wong had put down the phone and was now focusing her full attention on me.

            "Actually, it's Missy.  And I wanted to know how I could go about signing up for the gymnastics team."

            She smiled at me.  "Oh, I'm sorry, you must have been misinformed.  We haven't had a gymnastics team at Rancho Carne for several years."

            I blinked, trying to fully process what Mrs. Wong was saying.  "What do you mean there's no gymnastics team?  That's how I want to fulfill my gym requirement!"  According to my welcome packet from Rancho Carne, I could be excused from having to take two years of gym if I participated in a varsity sport.  "You don't understand.  I'm awesome at gymnastics.  I've been competing for years.  I won the – "

            "Well, if our physical education department holds no interest to you, perhaps there is another team you might want to try for?  We have ice dancing, water polo, cheerleading – "

            This time, I cut her off.  "You mean you have ice dancing, but not a gymnastics team?  And we're in California?"

            Mrs. Wong smiled brightly.  "Our ice dancing team is one of the top in the state.  Although, to be honest, Millie, I think your gymnastics talent might be a great asset to our cheerleading team.  Spots are very coveted on the squad, but yesterday one of the members broke her leg and won't be able to participate in the rest of the season.  Try outs are going to be in the gym this afternoon at four.  I really think you should consider it."  She flashed me another smile.

            I rolled my eyes.  "Sure.  Cheerleading.  Yeah, count me in alright."  I grabbed my stuff and walked out of her office.  I had already wasted too much of my lunch period.  Cheerleading?  Right.  Missy Pantone, the most spirited girl at Rancho Carne.  Like that would ever happen.  I sighed, resigning myself to two years of sweaty gym uniforms and vicious dodge ball games.

***************************************

"And then he told me that if I can't accept his independence, well, then, maybe we just didn't belong together.  And then he -- he  - WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"  The girl next to me burst into tears for the sixth time during our two-minute conversation.  I sighed, and checked my watch.  I had been standing in line for only a few minutes, but it felt like forever.  How long did it take to conduct a stupid try out anyways?  

I still couldn't believe that I was actually trying out.  I mean, cheerleading.  The idea repulsed me beyond all imagination.  But, somehow, after my last class, my feet had led me to the outside of the gym where I found a small congregation of people filling out forms.  Before I could think too much about what I was actually doing, I had grabbed one and filled in the information.  Now I was standing there, holding my form, listening to the maniac next to me who had just broken up with her boyfriend, and seriously considering the sanity of my choice.

As the minutes ticked a way, I watched the line in front of me dwindle.  Most of them seemed fairly expressionless as they walked out, with the exception of one guy, who burst out the door and sprinted down the hall screaming, "Hold the audition!!!!"  Finally, I was the only one left in the hallway.  A moment later, a petite Asian girl exited the gymnasium, smiling.  This was it.  This was my moment of truth.  Come on, I thought to myself.  Just do a few back handsprings and call it a day.  I took a deep breath, and then let myself into the gym.

As I walked in, I tried not to look anywhere near as nervous as I felt.  The cheerleaders sat at the front of the gym behind a long table.  I glanced up and down the line, wondering if – Holy shit.  Oh my god.  It was him.  Hottie boy.  And he was a cheerleader.

My thoughts about hottie boy's sexuality were cut off by a remark from one of the blonde girls at the table.

"Tattoos are strictly verboten.  Sorry!" she said, giving me a big, bitchy smile.  I realized instantly that my semi-dredlocks and wallet chain didn't exactly fit in with their perfectly uniformed cuteness.  Well, if they wanted a bitch, they would get a bitch.

Raising my left arm up towards my face, I sent her the biggest shit-eating smile I could muster.  Slowly, I raised my middle finger and licked it.  I then used the moisture on my finger to smear the ink on my "tattoo."

"I got bored during fourth period," I said, as innocently as possible.  The blonde girl and the Asian girl sitting next to her glared at me.  The Asian girl picked up one of the cheerleading forms from the stack in front of her and held it up in the air.

"You need to fill one of these out," she said in a voice that implied that she was speaking to an exceptionally slow child.

"Did it."  I cut her off with a smirk.  A dark haired girl sitting at the end of the table reached for it.  As I handed it to her, she snatched it out of my hand.  I watched as hottie boy leaned over to study my information.  I found myself wishing that he would memorize my phone number.

"Missy, is it?  Before we start, I'm afraid we're going to need to make sure you can do a standing back tuck.  Standard procedure.  You understand."  The brown haired girl looked like nothing would give her more pleasure than to watch me fall on my ass trying.  Well, I hadn't spent fourteen years of my life doing gymnastics for nothing.  

"Standing back handspring back tuck okay?"  I tossed my wallet out of my pocket and tried not to look at hottie boy, who was staring at me with what looked like shock on his face.  I launched into a back handspring back tuck.  Like riding a bike, I thought as I landed the back tuck and re-approached the table.  A quick glance at hottie boy made my heart skip a beat as I saw the large grin spreading across his face.

"Where's this girl from, Romania?" snarled the blonde.  Before I could make a retort, she threw out her hands.  "Can she yell?"

"We'll try an oldie," said another blonde girl, who was sitting at the center of the table.  Unlike the others, however, her tone wasn't laced with hostility.  She sat up straighter and gave me a look that implied I was to repeat what she did.

"Like awesome!  Oh wow!  Like totally freak me out!  I mean right on!  The Torros sure are number one!"  She shouted with a volume that easily reached all the way across the school gym.  I glanced up and down the row of faces, checking to see if this was an elaborate joke.  I was actually supposed to say that without laughing?

I took a deep breath and began to yell, hoping to match her perkiness.  "I transferred from Los Angeles, your school has no gymnastics team, this is a last resort!"  

I had to fight to hold in my laughter at the sight of the cheerleaders' faces.  Hottie boy looked like someone had just told him that Christmas was cancelled.  I figured I'd better say something if I wanted to salvage any remaining hope of making the team.

"Okay, so I've never cheered before.  So what?  How about something that actually requires neurons?"

"Do it," I heard the bitchy blonde mutter under her breath to the Asian girl, who turned to me and spoke.

"Front handspring, step out, round off, back handspring, step out, round off, back handspring, full twisting layout," she finished with a flourish.  The others at the table seemed to think she was insane.  I could see hottie boy glaring at her, which made me feel really good about what I was about to do.  I shook my head and laughed a little as I turned and walked towards the back of the gym.  As I was walking, I realized that I couldn't really remember half of what the Asian girl had said.  It didn't really matter.  I would just unleash a little bit and then see what they thought.

Reaching the end of the gym, I turned so I was again facing the table, which seemed very tiny and far away.  I took a few steps and let myself fall into the zone.  I started with a cartwheel and went immediately into a front walkover, which I followed with a back handspring.  Turning around, I launched into another cartwheel, followed by another back handspring.  Going full out now, I tossed myself into the air and executed a full twisting layout that would've made my old coach proud.  I made sure that the smile was mostly off of my face before I turned back so I was facing the table.  

Everyone appeared to be pleased with what I had done, with the exception, of course, of the blonde and the Asian, who I was thinking of dubbing the Bitch Sisters.  The nice blonde girl at the center of the table was the first to speak.

"Missy is bank!" she exclaimed, which I assumed from her tone was a high form of praise.  Blonde Bitch Sister scoffed.

"Bankrupt!  We've already so decided on Jamie."  I could feel any last remnants of my smile fading.  There was bitchy, and there was beyond belief.  I was beginning to consider running from the room and slashing some tires.

"Courtney, this is not a democracy.  This is a cheerocracy.  I'm sorry, but I'm overruling you."  The blonde girl at the center of the table, I was beginning to figure, must be the captain.  And I now had a name for Blonde Bitch Sister.  Courtney.  Well, that sounded slutty.

Speaking of Courtney, she did not look happy with the sudden turn of events.  "You are being a cheertator Torrance, and a pain in my ass!" she yelled, standing up.  Asian Bitch Sister quickly followed suit.  The expression on her face said she was far from finished.

"We already voted."  Courtney paused and turned towards me, an expression of pure malice on her face.  "Besides.  Missy looks like an uber-dyke!"  Courtney burst into giggles, as did Asian Bitch Sister.

I stood frozen for a moment, feeling as if I had been slapped in the face.  What was I doing here?  What for a moment had made me think that I would find any friends in these types of people?  I bent down, grabbed my keys off of the floor, and hightailed it out of the gym.  By the time I got to my car, I was practically sprinting.  I slammed the door and threw the car into drive, not even bothering to put on my seat belt.  All I wanted to do was sit alone in my room.

*******************************

            An hour later, I was feeling a little better.  I was laying on my bed playing with my Silly Putty and listening to a Nine Inch Nails CD.  Cliff had wandered upstairs to harass me, but I had just told him to leave me alone.  The funny thing is, he had actually listened.  Maybe school had brainwashed him.

            Right as the last notes of "Closer" finished up, I heard the doorbell ring.  Rolling off of my bed, I exited my bedroom and started towards the stairs.  I approached them just in time to see Cliff answering the door.  Oh well.  I decided that I had to pee, and headed to the bathroom.  As I emerged from the bathroom, I overheard a very familiar voice saying my name from outside the front hall.  

            "What the hell?" I muttered, heading downstairs.  As I approached the door, I could see Cliff talking to Torrance, the blond captain from my cheerleading tryout.  Now I was really confused.

            "Is her drug dependency going to be a problem?" Cliff said, obviously unaware that I was approaching.  My brother, the comedian.

            "Cliff.  Shut up."  I turned to face Torrance and folded my arms, leaning against the doorframe.  "What do you want?"

            "I want you on the squad."  Her sincerity was enough to make me laugh.

            "You're the best.  They know it," she continued.  "They just reject the unfamiliar."

            I shook my head.  This had to end here and now.  "Thanks but no thanks.  I plead temporary insanity.  See, I'm a hardcore gymnast.  No way jumping up and down screaming 'Go team go!' is gonna satisfy me."

            "Look, we're gymnasts too, except no beam, no bar, no vault."

            Was this girl deaf?  "Sorry, not interested." I turned and began to close the door, hoping Torrance would get the hint.  However, the only thing the door slammed into was my brother, who didn't look like he was moving any time soon.

            "What are you doing?" I asked.  If Cliff was even going to screw with me now…

            "Nothing, I just thought it was uh… interesting hearing Torrance's point of view," said Cliff, nodding at Torrance.

            Hang on a minute.

            "How do you even know her?"

            "We're old friends," said Cliff.  Torrance rolled her eyes and looked back at me.

            "Ever been to a cheerleading competition?"

            "Oh, you mean like a football game?" I said, amused.  

            "No, not a game.  Those are like practices for us.  I'm talking about a tournament.  ESPN cameras all around, hundreds of people in the crowd cheering…"

            "Wait," Cliff interjected.  "People cheering cheerleaders?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

            "That's right!" said Torrance, in a tone that matched his.  "Lots of people.  Here's the deal Missy.  We're the shit, the best.  We have fun, we work hard, and we win national championships.  I'm offering you a chance to be a part of that."

            I don't know why, but something about the way she said it made me think.  I stared down at the ground, trying to collect my thoughts.

            "Think about it Miss!" said Cliff, in his most annoying fake happy voice.  "I mean you get to wear sassy outfits, you get to yell like you care about something!"  Like I said, my brother the comedian.

            "She's not the cheering type," snickered Cliff, for Torrance's benefit I suppose.  Something snapped inside my head.  Screw him.  Screw the Bitch Sisters.  Screw mom and dad for forcing me to move.  I would show everyone.

            "You know what?  Count me in."  As Torrance's face broke out into a grin, I decided that whatever I would have to endure for the next few months would be worth it, if only for the look that I had just witnessed on my brother.  

*****************************************

            "So everyone, this is Missy.  Missy, this is the squad," said Torrance, indicating towards the various cheerleaders grouped in front of me.  I nodded, feeling fairly self-conscious.  I'd realized this morning that I really didn't have anything in my wardrobe that qualified as cheerleading attire.  I'd finally settled on some black warm-up pants that I used to wear over my leotard in gymnastics.  I'd initially put on a black sports bra on top, but then realized that there was no way I felt secure enough about myself to prance around with my stomach hanging out in front of all of these strangers.  Finally, I'd thrown on a red tank top and rushed out of my house so I'd make it to practice on time.

            During lunch that day, Torrance had given me my very own Rancho Carne Torros cheerleading uniform, and attempted to explain some basic cheerleading rules to me.  It was all very confusing.

            "Missy," said Torrance, snapping me out of my thoughts, "This is Darcy."  She pointed to brown haired girl who had been mean to me at my tryout the other day.  She nodded at me without much interest.

            "And this is Whitney."  Asian Bitch Sister.

            "This is Courtney."  I gave her my best glare.

            "Casey."  Slightly dopey looking.

            "Les."  Torrance had pointed out a tall, brown haired guy, who, to my shock, gave me a wide grin.  Hesitantly, I smiled back.  He seemed nice.

            "This is Jan."  I drew in a sharp breath as Torrance pointed out hottie boy.  Jan.  I liked that name.

            Torrance continued her introductions, but I wasn't really listening.  I was too busy studying Jan's arms, which were very accentuated by his white sleeveless shirt.

            "Missy?"  I shook my head, snapping out of my reverie.  Torrance was giving me her perpetually cheerful grin.

            "You can go sit down over there.  We already warmed up before you got here, you can start doing warm-up exercises with us tomorrow.  We're just going to run through our main routine this year – well, as much of it as we have down right now – so you can get the feel for it.  Then we'll start to work on our more basic cheers and you can join in.  Okay?'

            I nodded, and walked across the floor to take a seat.  Simultaneously, I crossed my arms and my legs, feeling very, very nervous.  I watched the cheerleaders gather into place.  Well, the girls gather into place.  The boys seemed to be occupied with standing around, stretching and looking manly.  Mmm.  Jan was looking especially manly.  A sudden outburst of yelling alerted me to the beginning of the cheer.

            "I SAID BRRR!  IT'S COLD IN HERE.  I SAID THERE MUST BE SOME TORROS IN THE ATMOSPHERE!"

            I frowned, watching the choreography that was accompanying their yelling.  It looked familiar.  Way too familiar.

            "I SAID OH EE OH EE OH!  ICE ICE BABY.  OH EE OH EE OH!  ICE ICE BABY."

            Music broke out, but I wasn't about to stick around and watch the dance moves that I already knew were coming.  I grabbed my stuff and hurried out of the gym.

            As I walked across the parking lot, I had a moment of regret.  This officially meant I would never, ever, get the opportunity to talk to Jan ever again.  But my moment passed.  I wasn't stupid enough to be part of a group that would mess with the kids from East Compton.

            As I was getting into my Beetle, I heard the unmistakable sound of Torrance's voice, shrilling across the parking lot. 


End file.
